


More than just a handsome face

by 11paruline44



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien gets unwanted attention from girls, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Marinette finally acknowledges her crush is just a leetle bit weird, oblivious dorks in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 22:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16313825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11paruline44/pseuds/11paruline44
Summary: Marinette had been preparing for this date—not-a-date for weeks. After all, she'd promised Alya that this time, she was going to do it. She was going to Tell Him™. So, naturally, she could have sworn she'd have thought of every worst-case scenario possible. However, none of these worst-case scenarios included the possibility that he'd have been asked out twice already that day...





	More than just a handsome face

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure, this is in first person—I know, I know. I'm trying to keep my skills of using multiple writing styles alive, don't @ me!
> 
> First part is Marinette's perspective, second is Adrien's.

“What time is it?”

I took a deep breath—or, well, my best attempt at one—and squeezed my eyes shut. “Go time,” my voice quavered.

The sound of a snap, amplified by the bathroom’s tiled walls, caused me to tilt my head up in alarm. “Oh, no honey, that is not good enough,” Alya scolded. “You remember what I said? You’ve got to commit. 100%. Now say it again. What time is it?”

“Go time,” I tried again, cringing as the wobble in my voice reached my ears. 

“Louder.”

“Go time.”

“Louder.” 

“GO TIME,” I practically shrieked, throwing my hands up for extra emphasis, hoping Alya would buy it. I wasn’t even sure I was convincing myself that I could do it. I mean, first of all, it was a whole afternoon alone with Adrien. THE one and only Adrien Agreste. AKA the most handsome, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, charming teen model in the world. What could go wrong—practically anything—especially since—since— 

I hid my face in my hands. “Oh Alya, I can’t do this,” I moaned.

My best friend placed her hands around my wrists and shook them from side to side. “Uh-uh, girl, you already got this far. You’ve got to go through with it.”

“No,” I wailed. “It was a mistake. I’m a mistake. My life is a mistake.”

I peeked through my hands to see Alya facepalm. “We talked about this. Remember?”

“Maybe…”

Alya tossed her hair and whipped out her phone. “You said, and I quote—” she paused to pull up her notes— “I, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, swear that I will go to the café with Adrien Agreste on Friday afternoon as scheduled. I also swear that I will confess my feelings to him before the end of the day. I hereby give Alya, my best friend for forever and eternity, the ability to hold me to this promise, in the event that I attempt to forfeit.” Alya lowered her phone so she could give me a pointed glare.

“Most of that was what you wrote for me to say,” I muttered, eyes darting to the side. 

“Well, tough petunias, nothing was stopping you from actually saying it.” 

I shot her withering look, to which she chuckled, before becoming serious once more. She stepped forward and placed her hands on my shoulders. 

“Marinette, you are a catch. You are an amazing, kind, genuinely _special_ best friend, and you deserve everything. Nothing that happens now will ever change that. All that’s going to change from him knowing is that then, you’ll have an actual _chance._ You know that, right?”

I swallowed and nodded.

“Good. Now.” Alya’s smile morphed into a wicked smirk as she leaned in closer, for the extra intimidation effect, of course. “What. Time. Is. It?”

I took a deep breath and met her eyes. “Go time.”

Alya released my shoulders and smiled, folding her arms as she sized up her handiwork with the air of a proud mama bear. “Then shoo! You’re late!”

 _Late._ Alya knew me too well. In a flash, I’d scooped up my purse and was running for the door before I even knew what I was doing. 

Adrien was standing in front of the school’s front steps, as we’d planned. He didn’t notice me as I arrived, his gaze seemingly focused on the street in front of him. I wrung my hands. There was still time to back out. I could still leave, run back home, and find an excuse. 

But then, what kind of a best friend breaks her promises?

I took a step so I was in Adrien’s sightline, although still slightly to his back. Careful to avoid looking at him, I announced my presence. 

“Hi,” I squeaked.

He turned his head. “Oh, hey there, Marinette. I, uh, didn’t see you there.” 

I opened my mouth to reply, and that was when I made my mistake. I turned towards him and looked into his eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes, fixing me with the kindest gaze known to man.

Oh, God, this was the boy I’d just agreed to ask out. My knees turned to jello.

“Oh, uh, that’s alright, I wasn’t very visible,” I tried to respond, shifting my weight so as not to fall over. “Not that I’m invisible, haha, I’m just sneaky—no, not that I’m sneaking up on you, that would be stalker-ish—”

“It’s okay,” Adrien said, mercifully cutting me off before I said anything worse. He shifted the shoulder strap of his bag. “Do you want to start heading over?”

“Yes!” I managed. Taking that as enough of a cue, Adrien started down the sidewalk, and I forced my feet to move to follow him, lagging just enough behind that I had to trot a little to catch up.

There was silence for a while as we shuffled down the streets of Paris. I hadn’t spontaneously combusted yet, which was good—although the only reason was that I’d avoided catching his eyes again. But as I plodded on, attempting to watch him indirectly, I began to realize something was wrong. Adrien had many strides—his model walk, his easy, loping jog while playing basketball, the casual yet graceful way he traversed the halls at school. But now, Adrien’s steps were slower than usual, and he often dipped his head to stare at his feet. Once, I thought I heard him mutter something under his breath.

He was upset. I bit my lip. This wasn’t good. 

Some small, perverse part of my leaped for joy at the fact that Adrien’s mood might give me a rational excuse for bailing on The Plan. This part of Marinette I shoved aside, guilt rising in its place. He got like this more often than I thought people really noticed—every once in a while, his eyes wouldn’t quite seem to focus, or his model smile lacked its usual shine, or he’d get distracted, and Nino would have to nudge him back to reality. Sometimes it made me angry. _Who, or what dares to hurt Adrien Agreste, sunshine personified, deserving of nothing but rainbows and unicorns and hugs. I will rip them to pieces._ But other times, like now, I just felt empty inside.

He needed someone to comfort him, and the only person he had at the moment was me, Marinette the klutzy classmate who couldn’t even talk to him properly. I was a horrible friend. I shook my head and tried to focus on the sidewalk in front of me before I started spiraling. 

We turned a corner, and the café came into view. Still in silence, Adrien entered the door and found a table, choosing a small one situated in a secluded section by the back. I set down my purse and sat in the chair, placing my feet side by side on the ground, almost frozen. The waiter visited our table, we ordered our food, and then we were left alone once more.

Adrien leaned on his left elbow, his fingers tangled in his hair. His other hand was absently tracing the edges of the table. He looked so hurt—damn it, I had to help, jumpy nerves or no. _Get your Ladybug on, girl._

Slowly, I reached a hand over the table to his wrist. He jolted at first, but then seemed to welcome the touch.

“Adrien, what’s up,” I murmured. The boy in question lifted his head to look me in the eye. I squirmed. Those eyes—I refused to melt at those puppy eyes, nope. 

Adrien broke eye contact once more, to my relief, and focused on his fiddling fingers. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I just—well, it doesn’t matter.” He straightened and withdrew his hands into his lap, attempting to shoot me a typical smile. I bit my lip. He was too unassuming.

“No, Adrien, it does,” I said. “Please. Something’s bothering you.”

Adrien’s gaze shifted to the right as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I—well…” He seemed to ponder what he was going to say, before releasing a breath and slumping over in his seat. “There were these girls… today,” he started.

I furrowed my brow. “What girls?”

“They… well, they asked me out,” he admitted.

Oh.

My stomach sank. There was no way I could do this today. 

“Yeah, uh, I know it doesn’t sound bad—” his eyes darted to mine in such a quick gesture I might have imagined it— “but, like, they weren’t very sincere about it. One of them had never even met me in person, she’d just seen my pictures in magazines, and she cornered me at lunch break. I—Marinette, she looked at me like—like, you know—” his head dropped to his lap— “a piece of meat.”

There was a pause, and I let him take the time he needed, my gut churning. How many times had _I_ looked at him like that? He was hot, that was for certain, and once I’d caught a glimpse of him changing his shirt by his locker after fencing practice. I’d known I shouldn’t have looked, have invaded his privacy, but I saw and he had… _muscles._ I’d ran back to Alya, needing some considerable talking down so I didn’t faint.

But I hadn’t realized how much that must have gotten to him, being a model whose image was everywhere, who people could just objectify like that. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again.

“The other one goes to our school,” Adrien continued slowly, drawing my attention back to him. “She—today she bumped into me, but I don’t think it was an accident, because she then—she put her hand on my shirt, and then she dragged her hand upward, and—” Adrien cleared his throat. “And I just felt so uncomfortable, like I was trapped, or something.” He flicked his gaze back to me, eyes almost pleading. “I feel like no one likes me for who I am. They don’t really know me for me. All they care about is the whole modeling thing.” He let out a breath and rested his chin on his hand. “I’m sorry, Marinette, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this—”

“No, no, don’t be,” I protested. “Adrien, I’m so sorry about today. That really sucks.” His puppy eyes turned to me, causing my breath to catch, but I kept going. “You’re so much more than what they treat you as. You’re one of the best people I know, not because of what you look like, or what you do for a living, but because you treat people with such care and respect, unlike those girls.” I swallowed, the pangs in my gut intensifying. _Unlike me, unlike me._ “You deserve better than them.” _Than me._

Adrien’s mouth began to curl into a smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

Adrien’s sunny demeanor began to return, little by little. Watching it was more beautiful than a thousand sunrises viewed from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

I didn’t touch my food for the rest of the afternoon.

***

_Thud._

The treads of my boots hit the roof as I retracted my staff back to its normal size. Scanning my surroundings, I found no sign of Ladybug yet. She must have been running late. As she often was, in fact—she was probably very busy. _What I’d give to know what she does every day,_ I pondered, twirling my baton absently. _To be able to see her for more than just a precious few hours. To truly know her, all parts of her._

_For her to let me in._

I sighed and secured my weapon behind my back. I had probably best stop that train of thought before it got me down—I’d just started feeling better after the incidents at school that day. Marinette had been such a sweet friend. _You deserve better than them,_ she’d said, her eyes full of understanding. 

I crept to the edge of the rooftop and peered over. The City of Lights seemed determined to earn its name tonight, every street and corner teeming with life. I let myself smile, basking in the sensation of freedom I felt just from watching. 

Suddenly, my cat ears twitched, clueing me into a new sound behind me. Ladybug had arrived. I practically jumped around to greet her, before realizing I needed to play it cool. _Silly kitty,_ her admonishing voice sounded in my head.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I drawled as I settled into a casual saunter, folding my arms for extra effect.

For a moment, Ladybug didn’t reply. Although my feline vision could make out her form in the shadows, her head was turned. At last, she muttered, “Let’s just go,” before hurling her yo-yo at the nearest building and whizzing off into the night. Frowning, I grabbed my staff and followed. Something was up.

Patrol was conducted in near-silence that night. Ladybug pushed onward, faster than we’d normally go, and each time I managed to _almost_ catch up, she’d speed up and leave me in the dust again. Finally, she touched down on the roof we’d started from, allowing me a full thirty seconds to get there as well. Coming up from a somersault, I immediately bent over and rested my hands on my knees, panting. When I stole a glance to my right, I noticed she was out of breath, too, but she didn’t seem to mind. Rather, she was staring off into the distance once more, her focus unchanging with my arrival. I frowned. This was definitely not good.

“Well, I’ll say, my Lady, I don’t think I’ll need to go to the gym anytime soon,” I remarked, trying to keep my heavy breathing from affecting my voice.

Silence. 

I straightened, my brow furrowing further, and walked up to Ladybug. Trying to comfort her, I reached for her arm, before thinking better of it and dropping my arm back down to my side.

“Bug, I know something’s up,” I murmured. She didn’t move. “If you feel like telling me, I’m right here. I’ll listen, and I won’t laugh, or judge, or ask invasive questions…” I pressed my lips together. “You know that, right, my Lady?”

Finally, she stirred, her head turning gradually until I could see her face. _She’s been crying,_ I realized, my eyes widening.

“You won’t want to hear this one,” she whispered. “Trust me.”

“Try me,” I replied.

Suddenly, Ladybug sank to the concrete of the rooftop with a faint sob. “I’m the worst,” she moaned.

I bit back the urge to correct her for the time being, deciding instead to sit down next to her. 

“I’m the last person he deserves,” she blurted. “All this time, all that planning, trying to work up the nerve to finally tell him, all the pictures and the cards I never signed and the damn _schedule_ —" She sniffled. “And I never once thought of what he really needed. Someone not as freaking vapid as me.”

I lowered my head, tracing grooves in the concrete with my claws. This—this was about a crush. I swallowed the sinking feeling in my stomach and waited for her to continue.

“I’m sorry, Chaton,” she added presently. I saw her turn her head to glance at me out of the corner of my eye, concern written on her features. _And even now, she still thinks of someone other than herself._ She was too damn considerate. I hugged my knees into my chest. 

“It’s this guy,” she continued, staring back out into space again. “I—I met him in class a couple years ago. I didn’t like him at first, until he apologized for something he didn’t even do in the sweetest way possible, and I realized he was something like the kindest, most charming, and definitely cutest person on the planet. And before I knew it, I had such a big crush on him I didn’t know what to do with myself.” Ladybug took a deep breath, as if taking a moment to recover from what she’d just admitted. “I couldn’t even talk to him,” she chuckled dryly. “I mean, I still can’t. It’s pathetic.” She sniffled once more.

I gripped the ground with my claws. Listening silently was turning out to be harder than I’d thought. _You’re not pathetic, my Lady! You’re anything but!_ I wanted to shout.

“Anyway… my best friend has been trying to get me to ask him out ever since she found out. Which is… years, by now. And a couple of weeks ago, I finally managed to ask him out to lunch. Of course, he misunderstood and was like, ‘you’re such a great friend,’ moments after…” I raised an eyebrow, and Ladybug smiled thinly. “Yeah, I know. It’s like the universe was trying to make this as difficult as possible. So anyways—" her focus shifted to her lap— “Today was the lunch date.”

I grit my teeth. _If this guy has done anything to hurt her, I swear, he’s going to have to answer to me._

“I’d promised my bestie that I was going to tell him, to ask him out for real, today. And I really was going to do it—I’d just about worked up enough courage this time. But…” Ladybug sniffled. “Only a couple minutes in, I figured out he was upset. When I asked why, he said he’d been asked out… twice that day.”

 _Ouch._ Wasn’t that kind of luck supposed to stick to me? I shook my head, trying to chase the brief satisfaction that she was still single away. She was hurt—she obviously really liked this boy. 

Ladybug stole a glance in my direction before continuing. “It wasn’t just that, though. Both of the girls… they’d been awful. They wanted him only for his looks. One of them even did something that sounded to me like sexual harassment…and I just realized, right then, that he must have been sick of people who wanted him that way. And I felt horrible.”

I snapped my head up and gaped at her. That sounded just like what had happened to me today—and she was so thoughtful, so understanding—but—but she wasn’t being fair to herself!

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think he was hot,” she whispered. “And all those years, of watching him but never talking to him, and keeping all those damn pictures of him all over my wall—I never really got to know him, not on the level I should have. I never thought about what he wanted, what he needed, out of someone—I’m so stupid—" Suddenly, she was full-on crying, her small body shivering with every exhale.

I scooted closer in a heartbeat, hesitating only for a moment before wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “Buginette,” I murmured. “You sell yourself short.”

Ladybug gave a bitter sob. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, Bug, listen—" I started, before realizing my frustrated tone wasn’t going to help anything. I sighed. “You might not believe me, but I’ve had my fair share of people treating me like that. Actually, it happened today, twice—" I shrugged off the coincidence. “But the point is, I know what it’s like to walk in… this boy’s shoes.”

Ladybug hiccuped and shot me a skeptical look. “Sure.”

“You’d be surprised how much attention this cat gets,” I smirked, straightening and flashing her my best runway smile. As I’d hoped, she paused her sniffling enough for an eye roll. “But…” I felt my smile fade. “I don’t often like it very much. It’s like you said, always superficial.” Unbidden, my mind flashed back to earlier today, with Lila in that hallway, her smile so—so _wrong_ -looking, her eyes piercing. Then there was her hand… how she’d started dangerously close to my jeans, then had slowly slipped it up, bringing the hem of my shirt with it…and then when she’d actually touched my bare skin—

“Great.” Ladybug’s dejected voice brought me out of my reverie. I gave my head a shake, before realizing. _Oh, crap, she thinks—_

“But you’re so obviously different,” I blurted. “Look at what you’re doing now—just the fact that you’re thinking about his feelings in this way. You obviously care for him, really care for him. And what you said about how you got a crush on him—you were talking about how he was nice to you, not about his looks.” I gave her a gentle squeeze. “He’d be lucky to have you.” _Anyone would be lucky to have you._ My lips curled into a wistful smile. _I wish I were that lucky._

Ladybug glanced my way, expression unreadable. “Thanks, Chat,” she said. She sniffled. “But it’s not that simple.”

I tried to keep my annoyance from bleeding over onto my face, to no avail. “What do you mean, it’s not that simple? You like him, for _him,_ and—”

“But if I were to ask him out, there’s still nothing differentiating me from the average—” Ladybug paused, letting out a short puff of air. “Like, you know what I mean—”

“No, I don’t.”

“I—I— _argh!_ I have no way of proving I’m not just another fangirl,” she shot back, voice rising.

“ _Fangirl?_ What, is this guy famous or something?” I scoffed.

“Well—well, yeah!” 

“But you said you know him personally. How does that make a difference?” I retorted. I was starting to find more in common with this guy than I’d anticipated. As someone who was, perhaps regrettably, a publicly recognizable face, I felt familiar ire rise up within me at the thought of yet another person treating me differently because of it. _Ladybug,_ no less. “You know, the last thing he probably wants is—”

“You don’t get it! This is _Adrien Agreste_ we’re talking about!” she yelled.

Time seemed to stop as the words sank in. This guy—this guy _was_ me—Oh my god—which meant—wait—

_Marinette._

_Ladybug is Marinette, who’s been literally sitting behind me in class all this time, who just said she had a crush on me oh my god and she was going to ask me out oh my god—_

“—and then I’d never be able to show my face at school again, and I’d probably have to move to China!” her voice exclaimed.

I snapped my head up to look at its source. Ladybug—Marinette—was standing at this point, her still tear-streaked face glaring at me as she leaned over me, fists clenched. I probably should have said something, anything to try to reassure her, but instead, all I could do was gape. Her face—it was so easy to picture, now. All I had to do was peel off the mask, and there was Marinette’s face, scrunched up in the exact same manner. I’d seen that look numerous times when she was angry at Chloé. It was so obvious. _Oh. My. God._

Suddenly, Ladybug sank to the concrete surface, deflated. “I knew it,” she choked. “Even you agree. If I ask him now, he’ll hate me forever.”

“That’s not true—I’d say yes, Marinette!” I cried out before I had a chance to think.

She reacted as if she’d been electrified, a jolt running through her whole body, before at last reaching her blue eyes, which were now opened wider than I’d ever seen them, either as Marinette or as Ladybug. I froze, realizing my mistake. _Oh, crap._ She probably did not need that right now—my Lady who had always cared so much about keeping our identities secret—

“A- _Adrien?”_ she squeaked.

While I should have known it was coming, I reflexively jumped back at the sound of my civilian name. Being called Adrien—in the suit—oh no, that’s what it must have felt like for her, too. Well, it was certainly too late to backtrack now. I managed to lift my right hand into a feeble wave.

For a moment, neither of us dared move a muscle, the panic still frozen in place across Ladybug’s features. Then, before I had a chance to react, she rose and, yo-yo whooshing, jumped off the side of the rooftop. Stunned, I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my staff before following. “Wait!” I shouted. _No, no, no, not now. She can’t leave now, now that I’ve found her._

I hit the next block of rooftops with a thump, throwing my weight forward into a somersault to soften the impact, before sprinting ahead at full speed. “My Lady, please,” I tried again, extending my staff and using it to vault myself onto the next roof. “Wait up!”

She didn’t even slow her pace.

I gritted my teeth, already soaring through the air towards another rooftop, thankfully still hot on her heels. Why was she running from me—I just wanted to—what could make her stop?

“MARINETTE!” I called, voice desperate.

Just as abruptly as she’d started running, she came to a halt, her posture straight as a rod with her back mostly facing away from my direction. I landed, at a respectful distance, on the roof she was on a second later, trying to channel as much Chat Noir stealth as I could so I wouldn’t somehow scare her away.

“I meant what I said,” I breathed. “I’d be lucky, so lucky, to have you.”

At this, she turned to face me, eyes still impossibly wide. “Really? Even after all that—that—” she flailed her arms in a wide gesture.

I took a step forward, nodding vigorously.

Ladybug/Marinette blinked, her cheeks reddening, then chuckled softly, tilting her head to give it a nervous scratch. “And after all the extraordinarily embarrassing things I said—”

“What, you think you could get rid of me that easily?” I crooned, hoping my nervousness didn’t come across in the cheeky grin I was attempting to give her.

As I’d hoped, she burst out laughing, and a moment later, I joined in, too. Suddenly, it was all so funny—we’d been dancing around each other this whole time, not noticing what was right in front of our faces. Goodness, I’d been stupid. Who else but Marinette—the class president, fashion designer extraordinaire, and master of putting Chloé in her place—could be Ladybug?

“Well,” Ladybug/Marinette started as soon as we were no longer gasping for air between bouts of laughter. “I’m sorry to make it three times in one day, but—” she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, before turning them directly on me as she took my hands in hers. I felt my face burn at the contact. “Adrien. Mon minou. Do you want to maybe… go on a lunch date that’s actually a date?”

I felt my breath catch. _This is it. This is your chance._ I could hardly believe my luck—after all this time, it was finally happening.

“Yes!” I blurted.

Ladybug beamed, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “Now I don’t have to tell Alya I broke my promise,” she declared, taking her right hand away so she could pump her fist in triumph.

I narrowed my eyes. “So it’s just for that, huh,” I scolded, unable to hide my smirk.

“What? You know how she is.”

“Yeah…” I replied, raising my hand to my chin in a gesture of mock-thoughtfulness. “So _that’s_ why this best friend of yours sounded so intimidating.”

“Oh, stop it, you.”

“And now that I think about it, she always seemed like she was up to something every time I was around…”

Ladybug groaned. “Don’t—”

“And that’s why I could never seem to get a full sentence out of you.”

“—you—”

“And what was that you said about pictures? On your walls?” I was full-on grinning now. “Wow, you really had it bad for me, didn’t you.” 

Of course, as I very well knew, I was toast now. I watched Ladybug’s mouth form a surprised o-shape, before gradually, her eyes narrowed. Knowing what was next, I took off, gaining only a split second’s head start before she launched after me, and then we were flying across the rooftops once more. Only this time, we were laughing the whole way.

My heart soared. This—this was perfect.

Don’t get me wrong. It was still weird. I’d need to take some time to sort it all out, probably giving Plagg the biggest earful yet. Crediting every brilliant plan, every heroic save, every confident smirk of Ladybug’s to my shy classmate. Adding Marinette’s adorable klutziness, baking skills, and sheer design talent to my concept of Ladybug. It would all make perfect sense in the end.

But for now, I couldn’t be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at thesernotthedroidsurlooking4. Thank you guys for reading!


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